You, a decade younger than I
Extremely good looking; painfully shy.
Me, just divorced from a man I had trusted
Forging a way; not yet adjusted.

Me, disenchanted with happy ere after, yet
Wanting renewal of love, warmth, and laughter.
Focused on making a way on my own;
Facing a future — uncertain, alone.

Me, back in school, as I clean up debris;
You, nearly done with your two-year degree.
Exchanging brief glances in class and in hall;
Attempting discreetness, as well I recall.

Enter professor, who noticed our plight, then
Schemed with amusement and fiendish delight.
“You’ll need to pair up,” said this playful young teacher,
Whose hallmark, I’d say, was her matchmaking feature.

She gave us a sheet of one-hundred-plus fill-ins,
Ranging from neutral to oh-make-me-blush sins.
Then she sat back with a smirk on her face;
Happy she’d taken us on as a case.

You, walking out of the classroom that day;
Me, walking with you; both chatting away.
We, walking into a lifetime of love;

Now twenty years later, and blessed from Above.

Marie Elena

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